I’m still working on mine, but without further ado, here’s Blacklisted’s version of events from Friday evening’s Rock My Town concert in NYC.
I headed out close to 5pm and was a little worried that I’d be too late to get a good spot. When I arrived to the venue I noticed all the menopausal women and smiled. I knew these ladies wouldn’t have the stamina to stand up for the whole concert. That meant Cale Mills, here I come!
In addition to the aged women, I also noticed that there were very few guys. 90% of the guys attending were husbands roped into the event. The rest included an Adam clone and a bunch of male Kristards. You could tell by the wistful look in their eyes.
In front of me on line were a mother-daughter glambert team. Both really normal, although mom glambert did state that Kris “isn’t very good” and daughter glambert didn’t think he had talent. Oh well, different strokes. Both ladies are members of PF. They asked me if I read MJ and I said that I read it on occasion but that sometimes it gets really snippy. They proceeded to inform me that MJ lost 75% of her hits because she has a Kris bias. Seems MJ is ‘unfair’, ‘moderates people’ and Kris is her favorite. Who knew?
My friend, who’s a huge glambert (she’s never watched AI but saw Adam youtube videos) arrived at 6 and not surprisingly fit right in. She became friends with the 12 closest glamberts. There was gushing and praising and noting that Adam was the hottest man on earth. My friend outed me as a Kris fan. Many looked at me with pity. Poor me. Liking the guy no one came to see. At some point there was mention that we were lucky to see Adam perform in a small venue since he’ll never do that again given how ‘big’ he will become. I rolled my eyes a little at that but hey, I was already outed as a Kris fan, what did I know?
At 6:30pm the lamest Adam wannabe showed up with his mother or possibly grandmother. They cut the line but we were all too grossed out by their appearance to say anything. The poor, big haired, fake blonde was from Victoria (Canada?). Her wannabe son (grandson?) was a cashier. Nana was trying to look 30 but failed miserably. The woman had the most hideous plastic surgery job I’ve ever seen. Her lips were weirdly shaped, she had smoker’s teeth, and her cheekbones looked like Meg Ryan after surgery. Nana wore a hot topic outfit, Adam inspired jewelry, and four inch sparkly open toed shoes. Mom and daughter glambert in front of me were skeeved out. That was when I knew I was going to like these ladies.
I told my friend to slap me if I tried to dress 20 when I hit 60. The mom-daughter glambert team agreed. They started making fun of all the older women at concerts wearing glitter and shit. They didn’t get it and thought it was ridiculous. Hello, common ground with the ‘enemy’!
Finally we got in at around 7:30 before frostbite set in. Since my friend had never seen Krallison I gave her the rundown. I stressed that Allison is hugely talented and has a great voice. I mentioned that Kris was amazing and that I thought she would like him once she heard him. I also told her that Kris’ bandmembers were really hot, especially Cale. Of course, she didn’t pay me no mind since she was concentrating on finally seeing Adam perform.
Allison came out and was cute, funny, made self-deprecating comments and basically sang her ass off. Daughter glambert pointed out Kris watching Allison at the upstairs section. Aww, so cute. From the first song Allison performed my friend was into her. My buddy kept on saying, ‘this girl is great!’. Well, duh. She did ask me how come I knew the words to all of Allison’s songs. When I told her that I had the album, she asked me for a copy. Why, of course.
Then Adam came on. No joke, there were so many old women going nuts I was concerned someone would drop dead. Alas, one dumb heifer fainted and poor Adam had to stop the show until they walked her out.
Once the concert resumed it was same old, same old. Adam would do that thing where he tries to be sexy, which always makes me smirk b/c I know he does it for shits and giggles. Of course, these horny old women take it seriously. My friend who’s not old but apparently horny was ‘ohhing and ahhing’ and stating that Adam’s the second coming of Elvis. I was happy to see her excitement since the Kradison concert ticket was a birthday gift and I knew she was having a great time. Yea meJ.
I had warned my friend that once Adam left the stage we’d rush up front because all the old women were going to the bathroom or to the bar to sit down. Just as I expected, a bunch of old ladies left and I got an even better spot. Right in front of Kris’ microphone. Yea, me!
During the intermission I informed my bud to make sure to take pics since I followed the no camera policy and therefore had NO camera, only my nano. Drats. I then pointed out Cale who was working on setting the keyboards but was turned away from us. I told her, “that man is the most gorgeous thing in this place. YOU BETTER TAKE PICTURES OF HIM!” When he turned around and faced us, I knew the mofo had seduced my friend. She looked as dreamy as the male Kris fans and she started babbling, “oh my god, he’s GORGEOUS…OH MY GOD, who is that guy, he’s fucking HOT!” I was all, “I told you that Kris had the hottest band. I also told you that the dude right there is my future baby daddy, therefore, close your mouth and gain some respect woman.” At that moment Cale smiled. My friend became a puddle. *shakes head*
FINALLY Kris came on. As always he looked pretty and played to the audience. By the third song my friend turned to me….a new convert, a Kristan if you will. Her exact words were “OMG, he’s the best. You were right, he’s THE BEST ONE! I love this guy….Oh man, he’s really gorgeous too….” Once again, I said, ‘duh, I TOLD YOU, ya’ dumb heifer.” Then she proceeded to get in front of me to get closer to Kris…sneaky.
After the concert, as we were walking out, my friend turned to me and said, “I still love Adam, he’s all glitter and spectacle. He belongs on Broadway (oh, oh). He’s like Elvis, a performer. Allison, I love her voice, she’s great. Kris though…*contemplates*…he’s a musician. He engages the audience. He made eye contact with us. He’s relatable. He’s like a modern day Bruce Springsteen even though his music isn’t Springsteen. He really was the best. I could see why he won. Also, you know how much I love him, but Kris is even more talented than John Mayer.” To which I replied, “Well duh, he’s also less douchier.”
Tonight may be my favorite of nights during the entire American Idol season– Hollywood Week’s Group Night! And this is so not just because it is the only time on American Idol in which the very thought of a group sing does not make me want to commit hari kari.
As we know from past Hollywood Weeks…THE STAKES ARE HIGHER THAN EVER BEFORE. AND EVEN HIGHER THAN THE STAKES ARE THE TENSIONS. Yeah, I totally could start writing anything that comes out of Ryan Seacrest’s mouth at this point.
But really! Who doesn’t just love the drama which unfolds when guileless schmucks, catty queens, single moms and soulful boys-next-door “randomly” come together in joyful song? Who doesn’t love the bitch fights and the tears? They even make them do their own choreography.
Apparently, my favorite (do I remember him?) from last night — aka the guy who hoisted Ryan Seacrest about.5m off the ground — is in a group with one of the over-sized glasses girls AND the frightening ZEFRON BIEBER EYEBROWS. They call themselves the Mighty Rangers…they all auditioned in Denver and just happened to find one another. NOOOOO. Danny Gokey footage! NOOOOO Zefron Bieber Eyebrows has a full name — Danny Jones. NOOOOO!
The Dreamers can’t get their shit together. They are soooo going to be this year’s Team Compromise! It’s called foreshadowing. And while last year had the uber-successful group White Chocolate, I am definitely gonna say Neapolitan is the best group name I’ve heard since…White Chocolate. It’s always best to play upon your racial diversity by making it happy and friendly. Like naming it after confectionaries, candies, and especially ice cream. We all are 31 flavors and then some. Racial harmony could be as simple as the freezer case at your nearest Baskin Robbins!
Poor Neapolitan can’t catch a break. Some bastard group with useless piece of shit Toddrick Hall, either Ben Honeycutt/Tyler Grady and some bitch dressed like Lindsay Lohan on her way into the Valley to pick up the good shit from her dealer, they’re singing way too close to Neapolitan! SEE?? MAS DRAMA! TENSIONS ARE RUNNING HIGH!
Michael Lynche, the soon-to-be-father/cuddly black dude is away from the drama! He and his group finished early. They are also already calling him Big Mike (If you have a nickname this soon in the game, your ass is being pimped.) and they show his group…of which I suspect he and the other big dude are the only ones worth ever having a conversation with, as they are paired with Michael Castro and Tim Urban. This is a bizarre group in many aspects. Oh, and Michael Castro is grinning like a 9-year-old lass who was just told by her mother they were going to the American Girl Store.
I will say it again. I don’t think Michael Lynche is an asshat for not being there for the birth of his child. It is perfectly acceptable for an eighteen-year-old kid to marry his eighteen-year-old girlfriend, enlist in the military, knock her up, and be shipped off to the middle east. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. American Idol...Afghanistan. Trust me, I don’t suck that much, but hear me out here — which is more “responsible?” Getting married and joining the military at 18, and getting your wife pregnant before shipping out to a place where you might be killed? Or going to Los Angeles for a week to audition for a show at age 27 when it was not even certain your wife would go into labor during that brief, 5-7 day period? Hell, he might even be able to watch that shit via a webcam–as we already have seen, they had someone filming that spectacle and totally sent it to the Idol producers.
The night continues…the Mighty Rangers talk about their killer choreography and Big Red Glasses girl talks about something (she’s a Dreamer). The Dreamers are all sorts of fail. Michael Orland even tells Mary Powers to shut the frak up.
JESUS CHRIST. COULD WE CHILL ON THE SMARTWATER PRODUCT PLACEMENT?
Destiny’s Wild can all die. Even in the morning. Debra Byrd aka the Debbie Allen of American Idol, tells Phoenix they suck donkey balls and don’t know their heads from their assholes. Big Mike’s wife dilated to 8 centimeters. I really hate Destiny’s Wild. Todrick Hall is a douche and who is the chick in the back trying to be Rhianna? And don’t even get me started on the guy who looks like 150 other previous male Idol wannabees. Is that Ben Honeycutt? I can’t keep track of these people anymore. Oh yeah, and I just really don’t feel the need. I’m hoping they will flash their names on screen when performance time comes.
Maybe in some group, one of these nameless every-dudes will stick out in a sea of fug? I remember this time last year, sitting on this very West Elm sofa (product placement!), writing my little recap, totally freezing the screen so I could include the one outside-idol-fantardlandia-attractive guy I had seen on Idol since say, Ace Young. Even if I thought he looked constipated. (That’s the beauty of my crude screenshots.)
(I have an eye for these things. No, really. I’m like the Pop Culture Miss Cleo. When I saw Lord of the Rings on opening night, I whispered to my friend that the “blond elf” would be huge. She laughed at me. And then he got hugely popular for a little while. I bought my niece an Orlando Bloom calendar for two Xmases in a row and that was one of her favorite gifts! I also said the same thing about the “wheelchair guy” in Gattaca. In October, I called a Saints vs. Indy Super Bowl and said the Saints would win. And from about the Top 6 onward of last year’s Idol, I said the final two would be Kris Allen and Adam Lambert. And no, I don’t think I’m smart or special or that you should ever listen to me. I think I just spewed a bunch of narssistic nonsense because I needed to make myself feel better after eating almost an entire container of french onion dip. Granted, it was with Baked Lays, but I now have french onion dip aftertaste.)
Mary Powers, I am so done with you. And that guy. Yeah, I was never with you to begin with. I am convinced you are the Lost London Brother.
The groups are called in and hold up! One is called The Parkettes? Lilly Scott is in The Parkettes! (I was totally a Parkette. Like, in high school. That’s what the color guard was/is called. Yeah, I was a flag girl. Shut the frak up.) And because reality television is also about impeccable timing, this is also when Michael Lynche’s baby decides its had enough of his wife’s womb. Come on! We have iPhones now! We don’t actually have to like, ever be in the same room with anyone.
Charity Vance, Michelle Delamor, Ashley Rodriguez
I pretty much eschew anything or anyone that calls themselves faith. The fact there is a Charity in this Faith tells me all I need to know. And seriously, Ashley Rodriguez? You are so boring. I think I may have liked Michelle Delamor during her audition? Yes? No? I can’t tell these people apart anymore. They sing that Beyonce song about commanding the dumped-on-his-ass guy to put all of his belonging in the box that’s not on the right. Yawn. So bored. All of them make it because hey, you know, THIS IS A GIRL’S YEAR.
Michael Lynche, Seth Rollins, Michael Castro, Tim Urban
Seth Rollins was the guy with the (in my non-professional opinion mildly) autistic kid, right? Ok. Now I totally remember him. See, its much, much easier if you give me a sob story to remember these people by than say, actual vocal ability or name. I have no idea why I’m kind of rooting for Michael Lynche. He sang John Mayer and timed his wife’s labor to perfectly coincide with Idol’s Hollywood Week! I think its more that he’s from Astoria, and for whatever reason, I kind of love parts of Astoria. (Best waxer EVER in this salon called Gigi. And super affordable! If you’re ever in Queens, go have her take off all your unwanted body hair.) Perhaps its because I am always sympathetic to anyone of African-American descent whose last name has the word lynch in it.
However, Team Awesome’s song was super trite. And we already know Michael Lynche makes it. Duh. He’s been on every spoiler list, was rumored to have been disqualified after his father allegedly told a local paper he made it to the Top 24, and oh yeah, they didn’t reuse his compelling back story footage. They filmed NEW stuff. But hey, good riddance Michael Castro. And Seth Rollins, well, they can’t take two big ‘n’ cuddly ethnic daddy types who became buddies during their audition. Haven’t you watched this show before? NEVER! MAS DRAMA MY FRIEND MAS DRAMA!
Jessica Cunningham, Liz Rooney, Thaddeus Johnson, Random Midget Black Girl
So asshat group Destiny’s Wild is also singing Bad Romance. I assume they will claim Neapolitan ripped their asses off. I don’t really care who came up with it, Bad Romance is all sorts of awesome. And while Worcester gal Liz Rooney kind of sucked, I still liked her because she reminded me of that Amy Poehler character named Kaitlin from SNL. I kept wanting her to scream, but RICKKKKKK! I wanna get my ears pierced. And this made me smile.
How often do I have to be subjected to watching Kara DioGuardi chair dance? It’s painful. PAINFUL. And who is Theri? They gave it a subtitle. Oh, jesus. It’s the Rhianna wannabe. Really. Anyone who goes on American Idol WITH a uni-monkier already should instantly be cut.
Theri, Todrick Hall, Siobhan Magnus, Jareb Liewer
So the Lost London Brother is JAREB. What? Did the person typing up the birth certificate hit the b instead of the n? Jareb sounds like layman’s terminology for an ass pimple. Siobhan Magnus is the shining star of this group, which isn’t saying much. Theri has no eyes. And Todrick Hall backflipped his way into the Idol Douchebag Hall of Fame.
I think I hate these people. And their rendition of Bad Romance was overwrought with cheesy, cheap theatrics they likely picked up from that damned Glee show.
I have no idea why they keep sending nearly everyone through to the next round. And really. If I hear Get Ready one more time on Idol, I just, well, I just can’t take
Tori Kelly, Maddie Penrose, Mark Labriola, Kimberly Kerbow, Danny Jones
Big Red Glasses Girl now has on big green glasses. She kind of bugs. And Zefron Bieber Eyebrows just sucks. Mark Labriola, dammit it, man. I love that guy. It could have been like Kevin Smith doing Idol. AND I HAVE THE SAME T-SHIRT! From Threadless, the Spoilt tee! Watching Mark cry makes me sad.
BUT YAY! Zefron Bieber Eyebrows is gone! Now I can’t make fun of him anymore. Of course, since I actually do have a heart, I often feel bad when even those who frighten me get sent packing. I am sensitive like that. It sucks.
Jermaine Sellers, Kat Nessell, Ben Honeycutt, Jeff Goldford, Morrea Masa
Kat Nessell bails. Like literally. Homegirl picked up and went home. Way to choke! Second-time Hollywood Week attendee Morrea Masa forgets the lyrics to Carry On My Wayward Son. (Also bringing back memories of my days as a flag girl. Can you believe we had a routine to that shit?) Finally saw Ben Honeycutt sing. I guess I can’t keep calling all young guys with mussed hair and open shirts Ben Honeycutt. Jeff and Jermaine make it. Morrea needs to shut up. She’s only 17. And I suspect Jeff Goldford could attract his fair share of frauen.
Holy trainwreck. Gwen Stefani, ugh. But was that a JOHN PARK sighting??? John Park! Orientals for Idol! Hey, why isn’t any other group taking issue with other groups singing the same song? The former convict was sent home, and some others, including some guy who looked a lot like Vinny from Jersey Shore. But yay! Carmen Turner is gone. And I’ve already forgotten this one’s name but I have two words for her:
For chrissake, when I went out to the bars in college, I would ONLY wear waterproof mascara and eye liner. Because how was I supposed to know what night I was gonna have? I could have ended up crying in a bathroom stall! If I took this much consideration about the variable unknown in going out and boozing it up in a a college town, wouldn’t you have thought to have done the same if you were going into a high-pressure, high-stress environment such as American Idol group night? And we didn’t even have digital cameras back then! You go into a situation like this when there’s a full-camera crew and you let your mascara run down your fraking face like you’re the second coming of the not-cool, 1980s Tammy Faye Bakker? Get your sorry, soot-laden face and get your ass on the plane back home. I can’t even look at you anymore.
And you know who else I can’t look at? Kara DioGuardi. Especially Kara DioGuardi bobbing her head up and down. Does she think its gonna shake some of the Botox loose or something? It is a certain, indisputable fact Kara DioGuardi is incapable of doing anything which will not make a person want to shank her ass.
Janell Wheeler, Jermaine Purifory, Casey James
Well, ain’t this just a trio of chosen ones. Shiny new pennies. Commercial! I bet they know what kind of artists they’ll be! Quit bobbing your damned head, Kara DioGuardi.
Three Men and a Baby
Andrew Garcia, Katie Stevens, J.B. Ahfua, nameless black gentleman
I can’t be the only one getting the Gokey vibe off Gang Bang Garcia now, can I? That shit was pure Gokey. I swear, this season, fad eyewear may be in competition with guitars as the go-to prop…besides a dead relative, cancer or hangnail, of course.
The Dreamers (aka DRAMA)
Mary Powers, Hope Johnson, Alex Lambert, Margo May,
Margo May–WHO THE HELL LET YOUR ASS IN HERE? You look and sound like something out of a V.C. Andrews novel.
Alex Lambert, you are so screwed because your name isn’t exactly unlike Adam Lambert. I have a feeling this could prove disastrous on about as many levels as there are rungs of hell. Mary, Hope and Alex make it to the next round.
Bullshit montage punctuated with Shit-For-Brains telling Katie Fraking Stevens (I HATE THIS KID. IT IS OFFICIAL.) she could be the winner of American Idol. Oh. And it ends with a voiceover quote from Casey James. Idol…you’re just telling people how to vote. Just shut your trap.
Many people may discount the whole big in Asia factor. Whatevia. I think over a billion people live there. Evidently, Kris Allen is very popular in the world’s largest continent.
Touring the Philippines, Singapore and Malaysia, Kris Allen has been all sorts of fun. In addition to eating local cuisine and hanging out both giganto-mall food courts, nightclubs AND tribal drum circles without ever coming off like a douchebag, Kris Allen has further endeared himself to me by admitting to being thrown in jail and for planning a trip to Rwanda with TOMs Shoes’ reputable charity endeavor. And even if we’re just basing it on shoes and no charitable niceties, that shit is so much cooler than the Idol Winner as Sketchers Spokesperson inanity I’ve seen for the past few years.
Further adding to my amusement, I keep getting sent these clips of Kris Allen doing all this stuff by the merry cadre of Kristards whom, for whatever reason, enjoy reading my shit blog. Allen’s assistant seems to be the one filming all these adventures of Kris and his bandmates through Asia, but its so natural that it doesn’t even come off as lame. It’s like crap normal people do on vacation and them post to their YouTube. Frankly, as a marketing strategy, its cheap and brilliant.
But in all seriousness, I am sooooo digging the irony of it all. (And this is the part where I stress the fact I’m not bashing one Adam Lambert, only his batshit crazy fans.) So I just can’t help but…well, just take a look.
Kris Allen plays with a snake as any average person would if told to touch a boa constrictor and does not allow it to slither upon him as an overwrought, cliched phallic metaphor.
Kris Allen plays with fire and fire artists. In Singapore. Not in the…wait, I’m not going there. Only because I do go there.
Kris Allen gives candid interview coming out about sordid bad boy past.
Kris Allen gamely wears feather boa tossed on stage by young-at-heart [and body] fan.
Poparazzi’s Christopher Toh blogged about his experiences at Kris Allen’s recent show at the Zirca nightclub in Singapore. Naturally, Glamberts came over to try and poo-poo all over everything…anytime I see a post by someone named Music Lover on anything saying Kris Allen might be kind of cool, I know what’s up. But this was my favorite because batshit crazy tards love throwing out the word average and talk about how they’ve worked in the music industry for years. Yeah, they don’t fool anyone. Or maybe someone should clue them in that joining Columbia House to get 10 CDs for a penny 20 years ago does not mean you worked in the music business.
Really? I find Kris very average and I can’t believe anyone would pay money to see him. I am not saying he is bad but I just don’t see the draw. I have been in the music industry for years and I do think he will not do well in the long run. I am glad you enjoyed yourself.
I’m sure there are batshit crazy Kris Allen fans out there and please, if you guys can send me incidents of them being complete morons, please do. I’m all about equal opportunity. But I never see any of them running to any article regarding Adam Lambert that appears in their Google Alerts and talking smack out the guy, or playing the concerned card, or any of that crap. Frankly, the show is over. Apples and oranges, people. Apples and oranges. Go bother yourself with some more online polls because you like voting so much.
Dammit, I totally digressed. Those wacky Glamberts crack me up, that’s all. Anyhoo, back to Christopher Toh and his experiences at the Kris Allen show. See, he totally did not want to go. And then he had a great time. And he talked about the MUSIC. The stuff about the feather boa and the young girls (and guys) dancing in cages and screaming for Allen was just kind of setting the scene.
However, I was looking for that one moment, you know, when a good concert can become truly memorable. It was when he broke into With Or Without You, interpolating a snatch of that U2 song during his soulful rendition of Falling Slowly (from the movie Once). And it cleverly began with the “and you give yourself away” refrain, before launching into the familiar chorus. But instead of milking it for all its worth, he went back into Falling Slowly almost immediately after.
Now, I didn’t like it because I’m a big U2 fan, nor because I appreciated the Irish reference. (Once starred guitarist Glen Hansard, who plays with the Irish band The Frames). But I loved it because it happened very subtly. Almost like a throwaway shrug. In fact, it was so subtle, I wasn’t sure if everybody caught it at first. Or at all. Only my colleague was grinning away because she too, was a big U2 fan. Then he looked at me and smiled. And we shared a moment. (Well, he could have been looking at the babe behind me – but I’m still claiming that moment.)
Feather boas…pretty young things screaming and dancing…fire eating…candid interviews…crowd surfing…what is this bizarro world? This actually happened in real time and not just in a video shoot? And it happened to Kris Allen?
Damn. I am totally violating my rule of not comparing apples and oranges. But I’m not. Or I wouldn’t…if things weren’t so damn obvious. Adam Lambert has a live show at the Fantasy Springs Casino coming up, but he is also doing some crazy cool acoustic concert for VH1 next month. An acoustic show is an awesome opportunity for him to flaunt his strengths as a singer and not just a reality TV celeb. But I gotta admit, I do so get a kick out of how one would attend this intimate acoustic show on Saturday. For reals. If you want to go, you need to send a head shot and vitals to a casting agent.
Seriously. You people so do not get it yet, do you? This is Adam Lambert’s management/RCA explicitly saying, sparkle cows, your herd ain’t coming around these parts because this guy is our investment and you’re causing us to lose money on an investment because you’re batshit crazy and you ruin any Lambert street cred. It’s also why they’re sending him on a mini-tour in the UK. It often helps to work on legitimacy in Europe. Lots of artists get big internationally before earning superstar status in the States. It’s quite simple. RCA & 19E want Adam Lambert to be…COOL.
Sorry. I just can’t help it. All of this is just…it’s just hilarious.
I’ve been looking forward to Hollywood Week. Scary, yes, but the audition rounds are more tedious than amusing and frankly, I would rather hear people deemed talented do horribly as opposed to all those designated trainwrecks. Or single moms. Or survivors of divorce. Oh wait, those are all the ones we’re going to spend the next 3 months of our lives watching.
Ellen DeGeneres is here. I adore Ellen, but I miss Paula Abdul. Couldn’t we have traded in Kara DioGuardi for Ellen? Then everyone would have been happy! Big Pharma, lesbians, housewives, me, you, Quatto the Mole, Oskar…
Alzheimer’s Tragedy Teenager Katie Stevens vs. The Big Skiibowski
Gawker’s Richard Rushfield has been riding the Katie Stevens train since the season premiere. I still contend she only brought her memaw out from the attic for the film crew. Oh, and she’s singing Stevie Wonder’s For Once In My Life. Yes, yes. I know they are given a somewhat limited selection of songs, but can’t we just save all Stevie Wonder for say, an episode of all Stevie Wonder music? Did I also forget to mention OMG SHE IS ONLY 16? Nice, I guess. But I still yawned.
Antonio Wheeler–aka Skiibowski--may have wracked up several criminal violations, however, I think about how much more entertaining the show could be if he were allowed to stick around. And Skiibowski makes his exit.
After the commercial break, we are treated to a tiny montage of cannon fodder. I have no idea who these people are, which means they really, really should have concerned themselves more with exploiting a garden variety family tragedy than singing. I wonder why people insist on singing barefoot, and why some girl is wearing the glasses I had in the 4th grade. I am also disturbed by the fact the judges are now drinking Vitamin Water!
You want to keep reading, right? So keep reading.
Obviously, there are ways to go and I still need to upload photos for tonight’s extra-long (sorry!) recap. It’s late! I want to sleep!!!
TAKE A GANDER. The link above…seriously, go forth. It’s a sneak peek of sorts…okay. Now I am just rambling.
Its called balut, and its a traditional Filipino delicacy. What is it? Duck fetus. It’s a six-minute video of
The “narrator” (apparently Allen’s assistant Lizzie) is kind of annoying, but I’m hungover. Kudos to Kris Allen for being such a good sport. I hate assholes who travel and refuse to eat local cuisine, like when I was in Ston, Croatia and this stupid bitch in my group complained about the traditional seafood we were being served — such as black risotto — and asked for fried calamari. I was mortified. She also kept asking everyone we met whether or not they had any family in the war. I apologized AND face palmed at least five times a day.
I digress. Mainly b/c I’m hungover, so I’ll get back on track. Apparently people in the Philippines love watching Kris Allen eat stuff. Or be on shows with eat in the title.
This recap was sent to me very, very long ago by the darling Shoshanah. And she has continuously reminded me that I PROMISED her to post it. I PROMISED to post it before this season, but then I thought, hmmm…it might just be the perfect flashback we need right now. Since this year’s Idol auditions were lamer than ever, maybe we have a lot more entertaining trainwrecks in our future. After all, isn’t it more fun to watch “good” people mangle terrible songs?
Shoshanah attended last season’s finale and had some very funny experiences, mainly her encounters with Joel McHale and Sir Normund Gentle. Hopefully, when you read this fantastic I-Was-THERE tale, you will be transported back to last May.
Enjoy, my friends! Enjoy!
Oh. My. Gosh. Tonight was seriously the most unbelievable thing I have ever experienced. It only slightly beats out my televised hug with David Archuleta. Okay, well, you can’t really compare the two Idol experiences, but, man! WHAT A FRAKING NIGHT!
First off, I got to ditch pretty much all of school. Awesome. We had 8 tickets from the loverly folks at On Camera Audiences (my mom got them on 2 e-mails), so in attendance were myself, my two younger sisters, my grandparents, and each of our friends. After we left and returned because I’d forgotten my ID halfway there, we arrived at about 12 PM — the cutoff time was 1:30 PM. This made no difference. The line went so far, it was insane. I think we might have walked a mile until we finally got to the end of the line. But before that happened, in the parking structure, we were making our way out and saw the one, the only, NORMAN GENTLE! (Nick Mitchell if you want to get technical—the outfit wasn’t on.) My sister pointed him out, so I called out, “NORMAN GENTLE!” and he turned around and we waved! He was so nice! He waved back and asked us if we were going to the show. When we said yes, he told us, “I wish I could watch with you, I’m so nervous!” So I said “Good luck!” and he thanked me! YAY NORMAN GENTLE!
And since the area we saw him in was the “Talent check-in”, we also saw Queen Latifah getting out of her limo, looking like she knew what she was doin’, mmmmmhmm! Haha no seriously. You would have said the same thing if you were there, it is just the only way to describe her.
Anyway, back to the line. We must have waited about an hour, because by the time we got in line it was about 12:20, and I remember getting our tickets at 1:30. They had this girl dressed as a bowling pin riding in a black convertible and dancing around in order to get people to go to Lucky Strike during the break and basically just making a fool out of herself. We also encountered a woman groveling for extra tickets for the two extra people she brought with her (sound familiar?). Then we just kinda talked about TV and moped about not being able to go to the Idols concert or the Demi Lovato/David Archuleta concert last summer. Then we got our tickets and went to L.A. Live. OH RIGHT, and while we were in line, I saw Casey Carlson. You know, that pretty brunette chick with the boobs who kind of just made it to the Top 36 because of her looks? Yeah. Turns out, she was groveling for extra tickets for her friends. Apparently, she hadn’t had enough pull to get them into tonight’s show, even though they’d gone last night. To quote Regina George: “Oh, BOO, you whore.”
Since it was sooo fraking hot, we went into Starbucks b/c (a) it was AIR-CONDITION ED (b) it had cold beverages and (c) it had a restroom. And lo and behold, smack in the middle of the packed coffeehouse is Haley “Hot Legs” Scarnato (8th place, season 6; I was actually at the taping the night she got eliminated… awkward). We waved and said hi and what-not and then I jetted off to find some friends while everyone crossed their legs and waited to pee. While I was jetting off to see said friends, I passed by Blake Lewis. I was running, and he looked like he was about to run too, so I just kinda yelled, “HEY BLAKE!” but my voice cracked so it was quite the fail. He waved anyway.
So on my way to and from L.A. Live, I saw these nice, new Fords, and figured that they for sure were for Kris and Adam; you know, those new cars Ford always grants the final 2. I asked the models-in-Ford-uniform and they confirmed it. Though there were 2 Flexes and 2 Focuses, so I didn’t really know which were theirs. Right smack in the middle of L.A. Live/right in front of the theater entrance, they had a whole long and winding red carpet set up, complete with cameras and a starting point involving Justin Guarini and Kimberly Caldwell.
I only saw a few not-so-famous people grace the carpet, including Kimberley Locke (3rd place, season 2), Diana DeGarmo (runner-up, season 3), and Blake Lewis. Also on the red carpet were Casey Carlson, Kristen McNamara aka that blondie in Nathaniel Marshall’s group, Kendall Beard aka the poor man’s Pickler, and Emily Hughes aka the awesome rocker chick with the pinkish hair and tattoos who messed up in Hollywood. And get this: her dress was—I kid you not—a cluster of grapes. She was wearing hardly any purple material as the dress, made out of 6-inch circles, and then the shoulder strap was a green leaf. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Expect it in your favorite trash mag’s “Worst Dressed” section. Oh, yeah, and Stoner J was floating around (I love that kid). He seemed to not know how to get onto the red carpet at first. Typical. I also met him last week at the Grove. Thought I’d brag.
After we discovered that no one of any real importance was walking down the red carpet, we sat and waited for the heat to die down and to be let in, whichever came first. I kept hearing screams erupt, and they were usually due to some camera poking its way through some fantards, but sometimes it was because a new past Idol had graced the carpet, so I went up and asked this family if anyone new had come out. They said no, and didn’t even know who the people were up there, so I explained. I also told them that I’d seen Jason Castro around, to which the mom, who must have been in her forties, said, “Ooh, that’s the hottie with the dreads!” Yes, ladies and gentlefolk, I met a cougar today. I’m not very proud of this.
And while we were waiting to go inside, we saw two past freaky auditioners — the guy who sipped from Paula’s straw and the guy with the really deep voice (who we later came to learn is named Elijah Scarlett)! It was TOO FUNNY! Germ Violation Man was pretty damn creepy, though… he kept licking his lips/chomping on his tongue, and it was really fraking strange. Dude has issues.
Anyway, so we finally get in, and we’re all like, okay, mezzanine, that’s not so bad, right? So we get up to the second floor, and it’s called LOGE. Not mezzanine… LOGE. Mezzanine was on the THIRD FLOOR, in the fraking NOSEBLEEDS. My gosh. It was so my grandparents’ fault for making them give us aisle seats but whatever. At least we were in the fourth row and not the back. We were still far enough away that we couldn t really make out any facial expressions. But whatever. WE WERE THERE.
So we got there with like a half hour to spare before we were placed on lockdown, so I convinced everyone to try and sneak into the orchestra section. On our way out, we saw Sophia Bush from One Tree Hill (which I don’t watch) standing on our floor! No idea why she was sitting so high up since she is famous and all that. But anyway, she is GORGEOUS and a girl in our group totally wanted to take a picture with her but was too embarrassed, so we ended up dragging her over and then running after her in the opposite direction. Sophia did catch all this and must’ve though we were psychopaths. She waved, though. I waved back. And promptly told this girl she was an idiot.
So we went downstairs. Saw Kris Allen’s adorable parents, though Mama Allen’s dress didn’t suit her, but whatever, she’s cute, so it doesn’t matter. Didn’t see Katy Allen. Oh, well. And it turns out you need to actually be sitting in a seat in the orchestra section to barge in there. Go figure. So after we went upstairs, Cory The Warm-Up Guy came out and did his shtick. I told my friend which dance moves he was gonna make everyone do, and lo and behold, I was right! (This is what happens when you have seen said shtick… what is it, 7 times now? Not all of them Idol. He was also at other shows.) Saw some girls who clearly thought they were Kristy Lee Cook since they were wearing silver glitter tops. Then, the SHOW STARTED! Ryan of course did his whole dramatic crap, and they rolled the footage, and THIS IS AMERICAN IDOL! WOOOOHOOOO! AHHHHH! Of course, we start off with a craptastic group sing rendition of Pink’s So What. I want to murder the people who choose these songs. Pink is not group-sing-able! She’s too awesome!
Then David Cook performed Permanent, which is a seriously gorgeous song. And the fact that he was getting all misty-eyed as he said “Forgive the promise that you’ll never see me cry”…. Just. Wow. *applause* I feel like anything I say now will ruin it. So, moving on.
They have those award thingers, the Golden Idols, they call them, and they give out the best male one to (surprise) Nick Mitchell/Normund Gentle. And he pretends like it’s a surprise only I know before everyone realizes thirty seconds later that he totally knows so I feel cool. And then he breaks out into his Normund Gentle general awesomeness that would have revolted me to see actually make it as far as the top 13 but severely entertained me from his audition onward.
Then Anoop comes forward and starts singing I’m Yours and I think, Crap! This is so where Jason Mraz comes in! WHY do they have to keep dumping this song on everyone?? And is Anoop really worthy of singing with Jason Mraz? (No.) And just in case I wasn’t shocked enough, ALEXIS GRACE of all people comes out and joins Anoop in this fest of repeated songs. And then Jason Mraz joins them with his uber awesomeness and I swear I see Anoop step back a little out of total respect. But yeah. Me and my friend, who totally came JUST to see Jason Mraz, are pretty pissed. Jason Mraz deserves at least a real duet like Kris and Keith Urban.
Does anyone else see the irony in two married men singing I Wanna Kiss a Girl? Whatever. Loved it. Although I still am mad at Keith Urban for being the “Australian Country Singer.” Can we just call him pop and get it over with? So THEN. The 5 girls sing Glamorous by Fergie, and then she comes out and sings that stupid Big Girls Don’t Cry song that she thinks is sooo deep but is really still a club song. But whatever, Fergie’s a decent singer and a decent performer. This is the second Idol show I’ve seen her at and I have yet to be disappointed.
OH HEYYY the Black Eyed Peas! This Boom Boom Pow business is annoying, yes, but live, it is FRAKING AWESOME. Of course, I can’t stand up, because these random bitches two rows back don’t want us to stand up because we’ll block their view. Why can’t they just stand up with us? I don’t know. One of them had a surgical mask on, but I saw her standing up once, and the bitch who kept asking us to sit down was capable of standing up to tell us to never stand up again, so they were just being lame-ass party poopers. They even threw something at my friend’s head because she dared to rock with the rest of the audience. WTF.
Right, so, after the Black Eyed Peas, they continue with these “Golden Idols”, and of course Katrina Darrell, aka Bikini Girl, has to make an appearance, so she wins this category. And here she comes, sporting the bikini… and some new boobs. This provides Ryan Seacrest with his best line ever– “I was going to ask you what’s new, but, um… now I know.” And then, he asks her to sing, and she does, badly, and then Kara has to come out and one-up her in both voice and body. Ugh. She claims it’s for charity, but we all know she did it for the satisfaction of showing up Bikini Girl. Whatever it was, I was cracking up the whole time at the fact that I was actually witnessing such shit.
Next up is Allison Iraheta aka La Princesa with the awesome Cyndi Lauper, during whose introduction I spot David Archuleta in the corner of the screen and consequently (and INVOLUNTARILY, I might add) shriek “DAVID!” at the top of my lungs. Luckily, I was in the highest balcony so he couldn’t hear me… I hope. Anyway. La Princesa and Cyndi Lauper were awesome. At this point, I notice that La Princesa is seriously rocking tonight, in the group sings and her duet and just overall. I love that girl. She really should have beat Gokey out. It’s not fair.
Speaking of Gokey, he’s next with the whole Lionel Richie medley thinger. I demand to know who he thinks he is when he starts Hello but then I realize he didn’t do horribly. And he’s not half bad, which reminds me that there is some reason why he used to be one of my favorites back at the beginning of the top 13. It just seems really… long. I don’t know. (That’s what she said.)
Then we prepare for the epicness that is KISS. When Adam starts, we’re all whispering to each other, “WTF is he wearing”? But then the sheet drops and we see Kiss in all their black-and-white-face-paint, metal-wearing, tongue-wagging glory with the pyrotechnics behind them and then suddenly Adam looks underdressed. And I totally missed the guitar smash because I was distracted by the fireworks show behind it. Fail. Oh, right, and I tried standing for this epic performance, but the bitches 2 rows back protested way too much once again. Fraking killjoys.
Okay so I LOVED seeing Santana because frankly he is God, but Matt Giraud (Quatto Host/Moley) hardly sang anything, and then they had to go into a group sing of Smooth which we have only heard 20,000 times. Was Black Magic Woman seriously not famous enough? Though seeing Jorge be all smiley and awesome was so worth it! AHH! I love Jorge and his awesome attitude and cute accent and that business.
And their final Ford video? Those Kradam nuts for sure went nuttier. Just saying. Okay. Now WTF was up with the Steve Martin banjo business? And Megan and Michael Sarver asking each other awkwardly in singsong to make love with each other? (Sorry, that’s what I gathered.) And I really don’t know how people managed to laugh when Steve said he hoped he would win when Ryan asked, because I so saw that coming.
Then we had the guys do a group sing of Rod Stewart. Love it when they wear the suits. Most of ‘em tend to look really hot in suits. I remember how funny seeing Stoner J in a suit was. And then Rod Stewart and his old guy awesomeness. I mean, he’s so awesome he got a total solo.
And then we get to see Tatiana be annoying again. Ryan manages to remind me of my government teacher when he tells her to sit down. Awkward. So during this commercial break where Tatiana is hogging the stage (and gets off right after the theme music goes, of course), they begin to roll out a drum set. Sophia Bush Embarrassment Girl (who does have a name and I know her well but you don’t so yeah) says to me, “Look! Daughtry’s performing!” which makes me freak out and then get mad and makes her laugh. Then, my friend squints at the bass drum and says, “I think it says ‘Queen’.” This makes me have a small heart attack, as I was joking the night before about how fraking awesome it would be if Adam fronted Queen for his Epic Duet. I squint at the drum, too, but I can’t really make out what it says because it’s reflecting too much light and we’re so far away. And then, I see it… and it says Queen. Queen. MOTHERFRAKING QUEEN, PEOPLE.As in one of my FAVORITE BANDS OF ALL TIME.
And then whaddya know, after the break, Kradam starts We Are the Champions, and then the partition lifts and there’s Brian May in all his Rock Godness, and I’m sitting there not breathing and fanning myself with what’s left of my ticket vouchers and screaming like a fangirl and taking in this epicness of epic proportions. And of course, I try standing up, but those bitches behind us yell, “OH MY GOD! SO DISRESPECTFUL!” and I’m like IT’S QUEEN, YOU DUMB BITCHES! But to no avail. I really hate them.
So when Ryan announces that Kris won, which I predicted after Moley Matty got the boot, it was so not as exciting. Sorry, Kris, I’m happy for you and all, but your win was no surprise Queen performance. (Wow, Word totally wanted me to capitalize ‘performance’. They know how epic Queen is, too.) Oh, right, and The Bitches STILL wouldn’t allow us to stand up. But everyone in front of them, even the row behind us who listened to them the whole time, was like FUCK YOU, THEY JUST ANNOUNCED THE WINNER OF AMERICAN IDOL, I WILL STAND, DAMMIT.
We left during Kris’s final performance of Kara’s shit song, and looked in the orchestra section to see RAINING CONFETTI like at the end of every Lakers game and after Idol Gives Back did last year, of which I have a piece (DON’T LAUGH). We randomly saw Jeff Probst (yes, he is the host of Survivor) walking out, and since we couldn’t find my grandmother, who kinda rushed out after the big news since she hates crowds, we waited by that same talent check-in place, which was right across the street from the venue, so I saw Bo Bice walking around and waving, and then saw Normund Gentle again! So I said hi again and told him he did a good job and he was all nice and stuff.
I also saw Joel McHale from The Soup as he was coming out of the men’s room over there, so I motioned to my sister and we went up to him and told him we loved his show. He told us he loved our show (ha, ha) and my sister, who is very dorky around famous people, told him that we didn’t have a show. (Thanks, Captain Obvious.) Joel saw my pad of paper and pen (don’t ask) and took it and signed “Ryan Seacrest” and told me to sell it for thousands of dollars. And then he signed his real name on the next page, and asked me my name. When I told him (it’s Shoshanah), he went, “aw, jeez”, and spelled out “Sho-sean-na” and wrote “Hi!” and drew a heart. And then we talked to him about his show and my sister told him she loves when the guy shoots him, and Joel and I corrected her that he shoots Dave (I mean, hello) and then we went to the car, found my grandmother, and I got to communicate with the outside world again (aka I got my cell phone back).
YAY I’M DONE! (Sorry about the lengthiness!)